Don't Know How
by Loisarah
Summary: A scene with Sara after Grissom leaves her apartment in Nesting Dolls. GSR focus


Title: Don't Know How 1/1

Author: Loisarah

Rating: FRT (Fan Rated Teen)

Pairing: Grissom/Sara

Warnings: Angst ahoy.

Spoilers: Nesting Dolls, Bloodlines, Butterflied… heck, probably just about any GSR moment up to Nesting Dolls, but those 3 episodes specifically.

Summary: Inspired by listening to Sarah McLachlan's "Do What You Have to Do" and the scene in Nesting Dolls. If you haven't heard the song, it's very beautiful (in an angsty, unrequited love kinda way). And very GSR, IMHO, from either Grissom or Sara's POV.

(This takes place during Nesting Dolls, after Grissom left Sara's apartment)

Sara leaned against the back of the chair she was in and sighed wearily. She'd been sitting there for hours now, even after Grissom had left. She contemplated getting up and locking the door, but didn't have the strength. She was numb. Broken. And yet, she felt freer than she had in… years. Yet another contradiction in her life. She chuckled mirthlessly at that thought as she absentmindedly swiped at the tears that fell down her face periodically.

Giving herself a few more minutes to recoup, she carefully stood up and took a deep breath. With a heavy sigh, she slowly she began the short walk to her front door. Her usual fast, long, and confident stride was replaced by a slow, weak, and dejected shuffle. She locked her door and turned around, leaning back against it, breathing deep and slow. She looked around her apartment. Her empty apartment. But he'd been here, for awhile. And it hadn't seemed so empty, for awhile.

She walked deliberately over to the couch and dropped tiredly onto it, wishing it were still warm where he'd been sitting. Not only would she not get to feel his body heat from him, she couldn't even get the residual heat from where he'd been. Her timing was off, but then, when had it not been?

She rolled slightly so she was staring at the ceiling, and then decided to close her eyes and attempt to relax. The problem was that every time she did that, scenes from her life played in her mind, and she didn't want that. She didn't need any more visions of her father hitting her mother and then turning towards her with that cold and angry look in his eyes. She didn't need to remember the looks on the faces of the cops investigating her father's murder… to remember the smell of the blood and the vision of cast-off blood everywhere she looked.

She sighed and shifted onto her side, extending her legs so she was lying completely on the couch now. Changing position didn't help, now she just replayed different scenes from her life.

The phone call that got her to come to Vegas, Grissom asking her to stay, and the hopeful way it made her feel. She'd always wanted an excuse to be near him, and now she had it.

She didn't want to think about him right now, because if she did, then she had to admit how pointless the last 5 years had been. Maybe not pointless, she'd learned a lot and working for him looked very good on her resume, but, was that all she was? Work? She hadn't always been this way. While she'd never been the most actively social person, she'd been more than she was now, before Vegas. Before him.

Whe she'd arrived in Vegas she'd started to become this way, almost completely consumed by her work. It had been unconscious at first. It had seemed to impress him, at least before the Pamela Adler case. Most importantly, it had gotten her near him. Near in proximity, certainly not anything more intimate than that. That she'd never have. And yet, she just couldn't give him up.

Sometimes, she regretted ever laying eyes on Gil Grissom. Sometimes. No matter how disastrous her time in Vegas had turned out to be, she couldn't give him up, the idea of him, the reality of him, whatever she could get at that particular moment. Whatever scrap of attention she got she savored. She'd never had anything else feel so fulfilling and yet so devastating at the same time. He could reel her in and push her away, and she just came back for more.

But damn him. Damn him. This reeling her in and then pushing her way. And she fell for it. Every time. Every goddamn time.

The counselor had talked to her about her relationships in her life, throwing out terms like "searching for validation" and "emotionally unavailable" and the ever-popular "self-destructive behavior." She wasn't sure that they were all completely true, but she couldn't dismiss them, either. She wondered if "masochist" should be added to the list.

She threatened to leave, he sent her a plant and made his beauty comment, and she was hooked again. Repeat that scenario a few times and throw in a confession she wasn't supposed to hear, and that was their 'relationship'. And it still meant more to her than any other she'd ever had, as one sided as it was.

That wasn't completely fair to Grissom. He cared. Not enough, but he cared. He came here today for her. Cared enough that, for once, he didn't let her dismiss him or get away with not completely answering a question. And he'd held her hand, and stayed until she'd stopped crying. At least had stopped crying the first time. After he'd left, she'd lost it again, thinking of more than just her parents.

After her DUI, enforced vacation, and subsequent counseling, she'd made the decision to move on. From him and this hold he had on her. It hadn't worked. For her to do that she probably should move out of Vegas, and she just couldn't. She'd started to believe that she really wanted to let go of him and the nameless thing they had together, but now… now she realized that she didn't. Whatever little glance, touch, word he gave her sustained her and she lived for that alone some days. And she hated him for it as much as she loved him.

What did it say about her that the only man she'd ever completely trusted treated her that way? That he loved her, but he loved his job more? That he cared, but not enough? Is that why she was drawn to him? He won't ever give in, so it's safe? He can't hurt her that way? No... it can't be… this tug of war had to be more painful than the end of a relationship. At least then she'd known she'd tried. No, that then they'd tried. She had been trying. He couldn't. Or wouldn't. Whatever the reason, he'd probably take it to the grave. He wasn't likely to give in. Not to her, anyway.

If she knew that it was completely one-sided, then she might be able to move on and away from him. But it wasn't. His admissions to Lurie had made that clear. As had his insistence today that she tell him why she had really overreacted with the suspect and Catherine. Somehow, she couldn't quite see Grissom being so insistent with anyone else at CSI, wanting to know why they were 'so angry.'

Is that why she couldn't move on? Because she knew that he really did care about her as more than just a colleague?

And yet, even though she knows he'll never do anything about any attraction or affection between them, she can't get over him. Masochist does fit after all.

Maybe she was sticking around in the hope that, one day, if he couldn't let himself care more for her she at least might find out what happened to him to make him think this is how he needed to live his life.

Who was she kidding? Even he probably doesn't know why he feels the need to hide and avoid living with the rest of the world. She wondered briefly what his reaction would be if she asked him that point blank. 'Why do you hide so much of yourself from the people who care about you?' She wouldn't, but she wanted to.

"God, Grissom," she muttered. "I just don't know how to let you go."

END


End file.
